


Compromise

by sophiagratia



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Female Friendship, Feminist Themes, Gen, Sexual Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-04
Updated: 2010-08-04
Packaged: 2017-10-10 22:49:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/105252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophiagratia/pseuds/sophiagratia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Janice Rand got a raw deal in 'The Enemy Within'. This is a start toward setting things right.</p><p>Trigger warning:  discussion (but not depiction) of sexual violence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Compromise

As a child, she stood on the rooftops of the skyscrapers in her city and spread her arms out wide. A strong wind could carry you to the stars, she thought.

As it turned out, it was clipped wings and the dank breath of compromise that carried you there. Janice Rand had made her peace with that, eventually.

A quiet, steadfast girl of twelve, she had announced one day at dinner, a propos of nothing, that she wanted to go to San Francisco, to the Academy, when she was older. Her quiet, steadfast voice carried over the boister of her brothers, and nobody said anything but she saw in her mother's eyes that she had heard. That night, her mother sat on the edge of her bed and cupped her cheek.

'Our world hasn't caught up with its ideals, Jan,' she said softly, eyes searching her daughter's inscrutable expression. 'Nothing will be easy for you.' Janice had nodded. Easy was for her careless brothers.

Easy had never been something she thought to seek.

She went to San Francisco. When she came home, sometimes, a propos of nothing, her mother would cup her cheek and smile and say, 'My fierce girl.' Amelia Rand was the only person who had ever called her daughter 'fierce.' But Janice learned, eventually, that it was true.

Tonight, as she laid aside her yeoman's uniform and carefully unbraided her hair, she thought for the first time of resigning her commission.

She had gone to the Captain to demand an apology, and what he had done before she could speak was to forgive her. His first officer had seconded his disregard. For the first time, compromise seemed too heavy a load to bear willingly.

Her hands working quietly, steadfastly in her hair, she studied her reflection in the mirror. Twin thumb-shaped bruises marked her clavicle. She had worn those bruises on her shoulders all day, as she wore her rank on her wrists. The captain had tried to rape her. She found she still could not say it, quite, aloud.

She had sat in sickbay weeping, loathing herself for weeping but weeping all the same, and she had not told McCoy about those bruises. And he had not thought to ask. She had dodged their questions and their probing hands and pulled herself into her mind and pulled her mind out of that room. She had thought of her mother.

When Janice was assigned to the _Enterprise_, she had felt the joy of victory for the first time. Here was the reward for her hard work. Here was the wind that would carry her to the stars. Her mother had stood with her in the transporter bay, the day she was to leave the flat surface of the earth behind. She had cupped her daughter's cheek, tears in her eyes, and said, 'Oh, my fierce girl.' Janice had shied from the touch. 'Mama, I'll be fine,' she'd insisted.

'The world is a hard place, my Jan,' Amelia Rand had said, proud but worried, to her fiercely quiet daughter. 'All I ask is that you never let it make you hard.' Janice had smiled at that, and her mother had laughed, wiping her tears. 'What am I saying. The whole world is not enough for you. You'll conquer it, my Jan, I couldn't be surer of it.'

So much, thought Yeoman Janice Rand as her hair fell down around her bruise-stained shoulders, for that.

Her door chimed. Lieutenant Uhura with two cups of coffee and a wry smirk. From underneath her disquieted thoughts, Janice sought a greeting. But Nyota, her voice bright and full of confidence, was ahead of her.

'All I have to say, Rand, is that you'd best not be thinking of resigning.' At Janice's startled expression, Nyota winked and crossed the room, handing her a steaming mug and settling comfortably on her bed.

'I never know how you know the things you know, Lieutenant. But thank you for the coffee.' Janice smiled in spite of herself. Nyota had that effect on her, and she was the only one who did. Curling her legs under her on the bed, she smiled warmly, but her expression cooled before she spoke.

'Spock was wrong, Janice. For all that Vulcan logic, he was a stone fool today. And you don't owe the Captain anything.' The certainty in the Lieutenant's voice confirmed Janice's own. How did she know to say that? It didn't matter. She had said it, and Janice found she had needed very much to hear it.

'Thank you,' she said, quietly. She was surprised to find her voice was steady. Nyota grew pensive.

'This was a bad time, I know, but you can't get discouraged every time some bizarre thing comes along and warps somebody's mind. You'd never survive, with that mentality, on this ship.' Janice almost laughed at that. But she couldn't, quite. 'It wasn't really the Captain, anyway, was it.' She sounded so sure.

'It was, Nyota.' Janice sighed and joined her friend on the bed, folding her nightgown around her legs, cupping her coffee. This was difficult to say. 'Nyota. The worst part of the Captain tried to rape me.' That hung in the air, for a moment. 'And the best of him couldn't acknowledge that. I can't make myself believe that that's acceptable.' Nyota was silent. She had come with wry good humor to cheer her friend, but wry good humor couldn't controvert what Janice had said. It hung there, in the air, between them.

'That's true,' Nyota said at length. 'It's not acceptable. But you are stronger than it, bigger than it.' She seemed suddenly shy, or embarrassed. Janice wondered why. 'I think so, anyhow. I think resigning isn't quite for you, Rand.' A little of that wryness had returned. She studied Janice's collarbone, and Janice found she didn't mind to have her friend's eyes on those bruises. It felt like confirmation; it made Nyota's judgment of her strength ring true. It made the burden of compromise seem not lighter, but more worth bearing.

'Maybe you're right, Nyota. Maybe you're right.' She laughed, suddenly, surprising herself. 'You know, my mother once told me I'd conquer the world.' Nyota laughed, too. And then she took Janice's hand. And then she leaned, gently, to rest her forehead against Janice's. How did she know?

'You might, at that. Wouldn't surprise me.' They were quiet for a moment, then, together. Nyota's hand was soft and warm in hers, and her presence had brought a kind of peace into the room. On an idle whim, Janice kissed her lips: soft as anything, and tasting acrid-sweet of coffee. Nyota simply smiled.

Later, alone in her quarters and her hands smelling of Nyota's hair, she thought she might not conquer the world, but for all its hardness she would learn to live in it and love it, if she could. And this was as good a place to start as any.


End file.
